


We Fight Monsters Together

by scarlettletterr



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (and not ashamed of it!), (leading to some sexy dance moves), (though they're not enemies per say they just don't like each other!), Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Begging, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, Jealous Derek, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Military Derek, Military Stiles, Overuse of the word 'pup' during sexy times, Praise Kink, Slow Build, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, also I said i'd update the tag because of Finstock, but the idea behind it is still there, there was some racist comment from him that I corrected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:37:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettletterr/pseuds/scarlettletterr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale doesn't trust humans anymore and is determined to pilot his family’s mecha alone. Too bad he doesn't get a choice when he's paired up with the brightest most sarcastic human mind to ever come out of Beacon Hills in the form of Stiles Stilinski.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Fight Monsters Together

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my participation for the Teen Wolf Reverse Bang 2015! This fic was inspired by [Lumi's wonderful art ](http://storyofrecursion.tumblr.com/post/125296772754/we-fight-monsters-together-written-by) and was beta-ed by the amazing [Silvia](http://notenoughgatorade.tumblr.com) and [Carly](http://serpensssortia.tumblr.com).
> 
> PLEASE CATS go have a look at Lumi's art, and give her the love she deserves, because she's awesome!
> 
> It's also the first time I'm writing smut, I don't know how that happened but I'm glad it did? (there needs to be more fics with Derek calling Stiles 'pup', just saying!)
> 
> Anyway... I'm thankful I got to work on this fic, because the idea was absolutely fantastic! It looks a tiny bit like Pacific Rim if you squint (I love the movie, and I thought about writing a Sterek AU about it, so I'm glad I got to work on something slightly-similar).
> 
> I hope you like it! [Come say hi on tumblr](http://pfudorqueen.tumblr.com) if you wish!
> 
>  
> 
> P.S.: A few pointers for the fic! (it's not that important, but why not!)  
> Stiles (human) & Scott (werewolf) - 21  
> Allison (human) - 22  
> Isaac (werewolf) & Danny (human) - 27  
> Erica (werewolf) & Boyd (human) - 29  
> Derek (werewolf) - 30
> 
> Disclaimer : These characters belong to MTV and Jeff Davis ; I do not own any TW character or material

Derek Hale enters Alan Deaton's office with a clenched jaw. Nothing good has ever come out of a visit to the chief of operations and the werewolf doesn't expect today to be any different. He already knows what Deaton is going to tell him; that he needs a partner. That he needs a _human_. To be grounded, to function properly, or whatever bullshit they'll try to sell him this time. Derek doesn't _want_ a human. Derek is perfectly fine the way he is. On his _own_.

Alan Deaton's office is white, minimalist, and anything but personal. But then again, Deaton is not a very personal man. In fact, Derek is not even sure that the guy is a hundred percent human, because his face is constantly blank and he always speaks in riddles (it's annoying as hell). The man is sitting behind a wooden desk, looking at a pretty heavy file on his desk. Derek just _knows_ it's his.

"Ah, Derek. I'm glad you could come."

The werewolf doesn't say anything, though he really wants to point out that he didn't exactly have a choice there, and just nods sharply.

"Please, have a seat."

Derek sits down on the left chair, the one that's slightly turned to the side, so his back is not facing the door. Derek never turns his back to a door or a window. That's the military training kicking in.

"You have quite an impressive file Derek." 

The werewolf just grunts. He's aware of what's in his file, he was the one sent on the missions. 

"But you already know that." 

Deaton closes said file and puts it aside.

"And you also must be aware that since the accident happened, your results have changed. Coach Finstock wrote in his last report that you're more aggressive and stubborn than you were when you first came here. Which was, in his words, 'already fucking stubborn and aggressive enough'."

Derek snorts at that.

"We take the wellbeing of our soldiers very seriously here Derek."

"I'm fine," Derek answers, feeling his claws digging into his palm.

"No you're not, not really. Not as fine as you could be, at least. And we don't need "fine" soldiers Derek."

Derek opens his mouth to argue but is silenced by a look from Deaton.

"You'll be assigned a new partner in the following weeks. We have new recruits arriving soon. We'll find you someone compatible."

"I don't want a new partner. I don't _need_ a new partner! I'm doing just fine by myself. I can handle this. I can handle the machine by myself. I've been doing fine during the simulations."

"Maybe. But you haven't fought since the accident, Derek. We don't know how you'd react on the battlefield, and we cannot afford to lose either you or the machine. This is non-negotiable, Derek. You _will_ be assigned a new partner. And, who knows. Maybe he'll be good for you."

Derek snarls at that and resists his urge to get up, leave the room, and slam the door behind him.

"May I return to my quarters, Sir?" Derek manages to say through his fangs. Deaton sighs, and gestures towards the door, and Derek takes that as the permission he needs. The door slams against the wall when he opens it, and he's gone before it closes behind him, leaving Alan Deaton in his impersonal and minimalist office by himself. He opens a new file with a small smile on his lips.

————

"We're here Scotty! Can you believe it? We're finally here!"

Stiles Stilinski is so excited that his best-friend and brother-in-everything-but-blood, Scott McCall, thinks for a second that he might burst right here, right now.

"I mean, I knew we were coming here, you know but now we are _actually_ here, and it's so… it's perfect, Scotty/ Oh my god, I can't believe it!"

"You probably shouldn't touch everything that's in arms reach Stiles," a voice says behind the two boys.

They turn to face a pretty brunette, a Disney Princess, Scott's girlfriend, Allison Argent. Stiles watches his best friend smiling like an idiot, and rolls his eyes. Yeah, they’re still not out of the honeymoon phase. It's been a year and a half now. Stiles worries sometimes that they may never leave that phase.

"I'm not touching _everything_ Allison. Just… The interesting stuff. It's just… You know. It's the base! We're finally here, it's crazy!"

Allison, bless her warrior heart, smiles at him, and yep, there's dimples! But Allison understands, in a way that Scott can't, not really. Because Scott McCall was bitten by a werewolf when he was fifteen, and so becoming a soldier, a _Jaeger pilot_ , was kind of his destiny, or something (okay, no, not a Jaeger pilot, this isn't Pacific Rim as Adrian Harris spent enough time reminding them during training). Stiles… Stiles is just a human. And even though they also need humans, there's six billion of them out there, or something like that. So yes - being on the base is pretty huge. Especially considering he just turned twenty-one two weeks ago. That's super young to be in the program.

"Okay rookies, get your asses over here!" A voice yells behind all of them. 

The three friends hurry to get back to their group. Isaac Lahey and Danny Mahealani, the rest of their group, are already in position, arms behind their backs, legs slightly apart, chin up (Stiles still hears Harris yelling in his face because his posture was not good enough).

"My name is Bobby Finstock but everyone calls me Coach. So you'll call me Coach too, okay?"

The usual _Sir, yes Sir_ echoes in the room, and Coach rolls his eyes so hard that Stiles is impressed.

"What did I just say, rookies?"

Stiles tries really hard to fight his laughter. He likes Coach already. Finally someone who doesn't take pleasure in hearing kids -or young adults, because Danny and Isaac are both 27 which is the usual age for the program- calling him Sir every time they open their mouth.

"So, you're new here, which means that I have the _pleasure_ of being your tour guide. I'd rather be eating cupcakes in my office, let me tell you this but eh, that's what you get for losing a bet against werewolves," Coach stops a second to look at the humans (Danny, Allison, Stiles) in the eye. "Never bet against a werewolf. That's your first rule here." And with that, he begins to move and the rest of the group follows quickly.

"So, welcome to the Delta base! Where we kick alien asses! This base was created in 2009, right after the Sixth attack. We have Argent and Hale robots, basically the best in America." 

At that, Allison blushes slightly. Yeah, she was _that_ Argent; the only daughter of Victoria, CEO of Hunters, and Chris Argent. That's why she was so badass, and why she was in the program despite being only 22; she had been trained by her dad since she was a little kid. Apparently, the Argents used to be werewolf hunters before the First Attack. That was something that could get a little… _intense_ sometimes.

"Apparently, I'm supposed to give you a history lesson, so here we go. December 2004, big bad aliens crash a spaceship in Wisconsin, killing a couple of cows, exposing the Big Secret to the public. Every guy that claimed to have been abducted by aliens is happy, and everyone buys The X-Files. Our President wants to have tea with the aliens but Europe isn't happy about that. They get bombed in January of 2005."

Stiles clenches his fists so tight that his knuckles turn white.

"Adios Paris, London, Berlin, and all of the small countries next to them. In June 2005, the Japanese create their first robots. People think it sounds like something from a bad manga or something but they kick ass during the Second Attack. Sure, Russia's gone but eh, Russia was mostly just dead land anyway."

That was probably the worst 'history lesson' Stiles’s ever heard. Accurate but terrible.

"Third Attack on August 2006; robots kick ass, yadi yadi yada, seven space ships destroyed. I drank so much vodka that night I think I even puked inside my shoes."

Stiles and Scott look at each other with a matching disgusted expression on their faces: yeah, they don't really need to know that about Coach Finstock.

"Science dudes study the blackbox of one of the ships and discover a bunch of useless stuff, different galaxies. It takes the aliens five months or something to get to earth. Nothing that can help prevent the next attack, so we do the only thing we know; we keep building robots and pray that it's enough!"

As the group walk inside the base, they pass werewolf/human pairs, mechanics, engineers, nurses… They give them smiles, nods, or nothing at all. Stiles tries to hide his blush and excitement when he gets a wink from Erica Reyes, the werewolf from the pair Boyd/Reyes. They already have two missions under their belt. They’re like celebrities. He’s stoic, she's scary and badass, they’re both sexy.

"March 2011 was the very first battle where no human was killed! And it was all thanks to MecHale and Hunters! The beginning of a new era, and the reason you're here today."

Coach Finstock suddenly stops, and Stiles feels his throat dry up when he looks up. It's one of the robots from the Great Victory. It looks old now compared to the new ones that they always see on TV but it's still pretty impressive.

"That's when we decided to form Human/Werewolf pairs. Of course, the rest of the world still doesn't know anything about werewolves, so to them it looks like any normal pair of soldiers but you are special snowflakes." Again, Coach looks at Stiles, Allison, and Danny.  
"The human body isn't strong enough, fast enough, or resistant enough to pilot those new robots, so we need werewolves for that. But since we don't want our nice werewolves to go feral, they need humans to ground them. So, congratulations ladies, you're now emotional babysitters for our wolves!"

Isaac growled softly behind Stiles, and he tried not to laugh at that. Isaac, despite being pretty smart, still had trouble with humour.

"Lahey and Mah…Mahea… How the hell do you even pronounce that?"

"Mahealani, Coach," Danny answered.

"Whatever! Curly and Pretty Boy, you're bunking in room 509 on the fifth floor. McCall and Arge- _Argent, really_? You're Chris' daughter?"

"Yes Coach!"

"Hm. Well, McCall and Argent, you’re bunking in room 523, fifth floor."

The smile Scott gives Coach is blinding and Stiles tries not to sulk too much. It was supposed to be Scott and him. ‘ScottAndStiles’, the way things have always been. They were supposed to be partners in this because the pairs were formed according to the emotional link and the compatibility between the wolf and the human. Scott and Stiles had known each other since they were _three_. They were brothers. Not in blood but in everything that mattered. When Scott had been bitten by a feral alpha at fifteen, it was Stiles who had figured it out and helped him control the shift. They enrolled together. They were supposed to be paired up and then they would kick alien asses together and become famous. But then Allison Argent entered the scene. Scott fell madly in love and scored one point higher with her on the compatibility test. Stiles tried not to be too resentful towards Allison because it wasn't her fault and she was nice and he liked her… But he couldn't overlook the fact that he was stuck without a partner. His compatibility test with Greenberg was the lowest score ever registered by the program.

"And Stilinski… Well, we'll find you a wolf eventually."

Stiles nods, trying to show that he's not still bitter about it. Scott pats him on the back and Stiles gives him a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. It helps that Scott is a bitten wolf, thus isn't as good as born ones with the whole smelling of emotions, because he never quite got how heartbroken Stiles had felt when Scott came back that day, smiling like it was his first Christmas, announcing he was paired up with Allison.

"In the meantime, your room is 408, on the fourth floor."

Awesome. A totally separate floor from everyone else.. As if he needed another reminder that he wasn’t like the others.

"Okay ladies, my job here is done. I'm going back to my office to eat cupcakes and watch lacrosse. Don't bother coming knocking on my door if you have questions because I probably won't answer. Good luck!"

And with that, Coach disappears, leaving the rookies to themselves.

"Well. That was highly unsatis-" But Stiles doesn't have time to finish his sentence because a second later he's on the floor, rubbing his shoulder and watching with wide eyes as a wolf storms past him.

"Hey asshole! You could say sorry! Were you raised by wolves?"

Scott facepalms, because while he's used to Stiles' jokes, most werewolves don't find them very funny. Proof being, the wolf slowly turns his head toward Stiles and growls at him.

Scott helps Stiles get up and he grabs his friend’s shirt, waving his arm in the general direction of the rude werewolf.

"Dude! That was _Derek Hale_!"

Scott groans but Stiles is already gone; dreamy eyes, talking a mile a minute about how amazing Derek Hale is, how intelligent and smart he is (apparently it's two very distinct things), how he's the best soldier they’ve ever had…

"Bro, he bumped into you so hard you fell on the floor, and he didn't even apologize!"

"Yeah…" Is the only reply that Stiles gives, rubbing his shoulder with a strange look in his eyes.

————

Derek is angry. And when Derek is angry, he likes to beat up punching bags in the gym. His sister, Laura, always mocks him for that, but he finds that it helps him to avoid beating up fragile _humans_ instead, so he calls it a win. His sister still mocks him for it but that's what she always does.

There are a couple of soldiers in the gym when he enters, but they quickly disappear when it becomes evident that Derek isn’t here to work out, and that breathing too heavily is annoying the werewolf. Super-hearing powers. Fuck them, seriously.

Derek is destroying his third punching bag when the doors open behind him. He doesn't stop, doesn't turn to look at who's coming in, doesn't even try to sniff the newcomer out. He doesn't care. If they want to stay in the same room as a _nearly feral werewolf_ -because apparently that's what he is, since Deaton seems to think pairing him up with a human is absolutely necessary- it's their own fault.

"Well, damn. We'll definitely have to replace those punching bags."

Derek stops dead in his tracks, because he knows the voice coming from the entry of the gym. It's the voice of the Sheriff. The Sheriff, aka John Stilinski -though Derek has no idea if the guy was ever a real sheriff-, one of the very few people the werewolf likes on this base, the one man Derek has some type of Hero worship for. He knows, like everybody else, that the Sheriff lost his wife during the First Attack, because she was flying back from Poland when the aliens attacked. He knows that they never found her body, and he had nothing to bury. That it's the reason why he joined the program. That he's friends with Talia Hale, has been for years now, and helped her design robots better fit to fight. The Sheriff is basically a hero around here, but doesn’t get the recognition he should on the outside. Yes, Derek really admires the human -which doesn't happen often, because _humans_ -.

"Yes, I… sorry."

"Don't worry son," Derek tries not to be too smug about the ' _son_ '. "I get it. You've been on your own for a while now, getting a new partner is probably the last thing you wanted."

"Well, another attack is still at the bottom of the list…" The Sheriff smirks at that, and Derek puffs his chest. "But yes, pretty much."

"You shouldn't judge the situation so quickly. I mean, you haven't met your new partner yet. The tests are designed for a reason, to find the best person for you."

"It's just a compatibility test. It doesn't take into account personal feelings." 

Derek is in the army, so personal feelings shouldn't matter. But he can't help being childish about it: after all, he's being paired up with someone he never even _met_. For all he knows, he's going to hate them on sight - actually he _knows_ he's going to hate them on sight. He'll probably be paired up with a bimbo, or a jock.

"I think you'll be good together," the sheriff states. Derek arches an eyebrow. "Well, if you don't kill each other first!" The Sheriff says, chuckling.

Because that's supposed to be reassuring?

Derek is about to open his mouth to answer the Sheriff when the doors of the gym fly open, slamming against the walls. Derek closes his mouth at the sight in front of him.  
The guy is cute. No- he's _pretty_. He has big, brown doe-eyes that makes him look like Bambi, and moles dotting his fair skin, like constellations in the sky. His face is flushed and he's panting in a very unattractive way but it doesn't stop him from being pretty.

And then the guy raises his head, and Derek recognizes him as the rookie he bumped into earlier that week. Ugh.

"Woah…" The rookie blushes -or at least Derek thinks he's blushing because his cheeks are becoming even redder than they already were. As his eyes lock onto Derek's bared chest he begins to feel like he always feels when someone's looking at him like he's nothing more than a piece of meat: pissed off.

Derek furrows his eyebrows, and scowls at the newcomer.

"Uh… I- I'm sorry I'm late! I was with Scott and then I kinda lost track of the time and I couldn't find the gym and…"

Derek tunes him out; he had never been a big fan of babbling and it seems to be all the rookie is capable of. That, and not looking where he walks. _Rookies_.

"It's okay, Stiles," the Sheriff says and, seriously, what kind of name is _Stiles_? It doesn't even make sense! "Everyone gets lost during their first week! I'm sure even Derek here had to go through that."

"No."

The Sheriff makes a face and Stiles looks at him, surprised but not glaring in the way that Derek expected he would.

"Well… Anyway. Stiles, this is Derek Hale. Derek, this is Stiles; your new partner." And Stiles, smiling like this is the best day of his life, extends a hand.

"It's nice to meet you, dude!"

What?

"You're serious? _Him_?"

Derek doesn't even feel guilty when he sees the flash of hurt in Stiles' eyes.

"Derek-" the Sheriff starts.

"No, seriously! He looks like he's twelve! Is he even old enough to get into the program? I thought I was supposed to get a partner, not be turned into a baby sitter!"

"I'm twenty-one, you douche-canoe! I'm not a kid! I completed my training, and I'm just as much a member of the base as any other soldier on it."

Derek is judging him. Hard. With his eyebrows.

"Well, this is going to be fun. Stiles, kiddo" and wait, what? Who's this guy? Why is the Sheriff calling him _kiddo_? "Try not to make this too difficult okay?"

"I'm the one making it difficult? He called me a baby and refused to work with me, without actually knowing me! If anyone is being difficult it's him!"

"Stiles, I don't have time for this, I need to get to a meeting with Deaton."

"I thought you loved me, dad, but apparently I was wrong!"

 _Dad_?

"Don't be dramatic. I'll see you tonight. Try not to kill each other, boys!"

The gym is silent after the Sheriff goes, leaving Stiles and Derek to stare at each other.. 

So, _he's the Sheriff's kid_ , Derek thinks. Yeah. Suddenly it’s not such a surprise that he got into the program so young. He probably begged his daddy to let him play grown up. _Perfect_. Just what Derek needed! A brat!

"Look…" Stiles is the one to break the silence, not that it's surprising. "We got off the wrong foot. Could we try again? We're partners, for now, whether we like it or not and we'll work better if we don't hate each other. We should get to know each other! I'll start! I'm Stiles Stilinski. Well, Stiles is not my real name, but everyone calls me Stiles because no one can pronounce my actual name!" 

Babbling. How _charming_.

"I don't want a human. I don't _need_ a human. Especially not a daddy's boy who can't walk straight and be on time," at that, Stiles blushes furiously. "And got into the program because of his last name," Stiles opens his mouth, but Derek's not in the mood for another word-vomiting session. "I have zero desire to ‘ _get to know each other_ ’, so, move out of the way."

Derek bumps into him _again_ as he walks out of the gym. As he leaves he tries to ignore the stench of anger and misery that is coming from the human.

He doesn't care. He stopped caring a long time ago.

————

Despite his screaming and kicking - aka brooding and scowling - Derek still ends up in the simulation room with _Stiles Stilinski_. Deaton didn't laugh in his face when he told him Stiles and him were everything but compatible but that's probably because the chief of operations never laughed in his life and probably doesn't know what his zygomaticus muscles are for.

Derek is getting ready when Stiles finally enters the room, breathless and face flushed just like the last time he saw him. Derek doesn't even turn to look at him, showing him that a) he doesn't care about him and b) he disapproves of him being late.

"Sorry I'm late! Lydia was showing me something in her lab and-"

"I don't care," Derek interrupts with a growl, and he hears Stiles gulp behind him.

"Okay, I'm just gonna… get in my suit."

Derek adjusts the collar of the suit and cracks his neck before stepping into the Simulator, built like the head of a Hale machine. It was divided into two parts; one for the human, with technologies that Derek had never understood, and the second part for the wolf, linking him to the machine, allowing him to move it the way he wants to. That was always the easy part. The electric current running through his veins has always been annoying but never very painful. The machines have always been easy to move. He only had to step on the platform, and move his legs and arms to fight.. The fighting part was always easy.  
It was the rest that wasn't.

Stiles finally steps into the Simulator and Derek hears the sharp intake of breath, can feel the excitement pouring out of him. Derek resists the urge to roll his eyes when Stiles gently strokes the systems interface, murmuring praise and awes.

"Let's get this over with," Derek groans and Stiles jumps a little, as if he had forgotten that he wasn't alone in here. He probably had forgotten.

"Ye-Yeah. Of course! Okay, let's do this!"  
Stiles steps onto the platform and pulls down the visor of his helmet. He hisses in pain when the connection to his brain is made and grips the computer with tight fingers. Derek takes a step forward but stops himself What was he even doing? He shakes his head and, lets out a shaky breath.

"Woah…That was… Damn," Stiles breathes in awe.

"You done? Can we get to the simulation now?"

"Yeah, yes! Sorry, dude."

"Don't call me dude!" Derek warned.

"Sorry! Okay. Okay, let's do this. Simulation in 10…9…" Stiles starts the countdown while hitting buttons in front of him. Derek is pretty sure that he’s just randomly hitting them. There's a loud noise caused by the door of the Simulator closing before the screen in front of Derek crackles and the image of a battlefield appears.  
There it is. Derek takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He's got this.

————

"What the hell was that?!" Stiles screams as he snatches the visor away from his eyes. "Why the hell didn't you listen to me? We're dead now!"  
"Shut up. Let's do it again," Derek says. Stiles huffs but hits the 'restart' button. Fucking werewolves, man.

————

"Are you kidding me??"  
"Shut up. Again."

————

"DUDE! You need to listen to me! I know what I'm doing!"  
"Shut up!"

————

"What the hell is your problem?" The door of the Simulator is open, and Derek is panting, out of breath, and dead for the fifth time in less than 3 hours. The message 'mission failed' is blinking on the screen and Stiles looks absolutely furious. "I _know_ you didn't want a partner but dude, we don't exactly have a choice here! I'm your partner and you need to _listen_ to me!"

"I don't. Need. A kid. To tell me. What to do."

"Oh, sure you don't! That's why we died FIVE TIMES in the simulation! Are you really that stubborn? Do you think they'll decide not to pair you up after those results? Because the only thing they'll do will be to send your sorry ass back home if you can't even complete a simulation!"

"I did just fine without you before I don't _need_ you!"

"Well obviously you do asshole! Because you DIED. FIVE.TIMES!"

"Shut up!" Derek growls.

"Is that all you can say? Shut up, shut up, shut up, Stiles! But you know I'm _right_!"

"Even if that was true, even if I needed a partner, I wouldn't _need_ you!"  
"Oh yeah? Why is that? Because I'm younger than the rest of the humans around here? The only thing that means is that I'm _smarter_ than them, that I'm _better_ than them!"

"No, it means that you're just your daddy's boy."

"Oh fuck you, Hale! You don't know _anything_ about me, or my dad for the matter! You seriously think my dad, the _Sheriff_ , would do something like that?" Stiles demands.

"Well that's the only explanation, considering how weak you are!" Spits Derek.

Stiles' cheeks turn red, as red as Derek's eyes when he's wolfed out.

"Yeah, well, if that's how you usually work no wonder your previous partner _died_!"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Stiles turns white. It's easy to see that he regrets saying them and that he doesn't really believe them. But Derek doesn't see that, because suddenly, his eyes turn that shade of red that only means trouble. A heartbeat later, he’s pressing Stiles against the door of the Simulator and snarling in his face, teeth so close to Stiles’ cheek that Stiles is afraid that they’ll break the skin.

"Don't. _Ever_. Talk. About. Paige." Snarls Derek. 

Stiles is slammed against the door again twice., He whimpers in pain and, probably, fear too when the handle digs into his back and Derek’s claws skin into his shoulder.

And then Derek is gone, leaving behind a breathless Stiles smelling of sadness, misery, guilt, and hurt.

————

Stiles slumps down onto his chair in the cafeteria with a heavy sigh and lets his head fall into his arms.

"I'm gonna get fired," he says, resigned to his fate.

Scott, who had been talking with Allison (as per usual), turns his head towards his best friend with a concerned look on his face.

"Why? Did you do something? Did you get into trouble last night? I know we were supposed to hang out, sorry, but Allison wanted to…" Scott trails off.

"No, dude. I didn't do anything! That's probably the problem," he grumbles.

"What?"

"Training and simulations are still awful, man. Derek still can't stand me, doesn't listen to me, just keeps doing his thing, totally disregarding my tactics. I'm a _tactician_! This is _what I do_! And he _knows_ it! ...Probably! But he's such a stubborn asshole!"

"Aw, poor baby," Stiles grits his teeth upon hearing Jackson's voice. The werewolf is the most annoying person on the whole base and he seems to generally dislike Stiles even though he had done nothing to deserve it. He'd probably breathed too heavily while sitting next to the Jackass, to be honest.  
Or it may have something to do with the fact that Lydia-Gorgeous-Genius-Martin, his partner, mate, and everything in between, had taken a liking to Stiles. Because geniuses stick together or something like that. Stiles hadn't really understood what she was saying that day, too surprised that she was actually talking to him to listen to what she was saying.

"Jackson, don't be an ass!" reprimands Lydia.

"Ah! You said ass!" Stiles snickers and it earns him an eye-roll. For all that Lydia likes him, she still hates his humor. Which was her loss, because seriously, Stiles is hilarious okay?…'Kay maybe not.

"What did he do, this time?" The strawberry blond goddess asks as she sits down on the other side of the table. Her lapdog (Jackson) sits next to her, glaring at Stiles for good measure. Then he looks at Scott and Allison to join the conversation, probably, or sigh and look pretty, most likely.

"Nothing, that's the problem! He still absolutely hates my guts,” Stiles whines. “Which, okay, I'm annoying I get it. And what I said about P- his previous partner was like woah-no-dude-out-of-line but I apologized a thousand times for that because that was too much of a dick move _even for me_!"

Jackson snickers, and Stiles glares at him before continuing, "But he still doesn't listen to me! It's not even that he doesn't trust my judgment or anything, he just pretends I'm not even there! He just…He just ignores me and does whatever he wants. And if things keep going this way I'm the one that they'll send home because they need him more than they need me. He's a Hale after all."

Lydia makes a noise like she disagrees. Which, she does because Lydia's awesome.

"You're just as important as he is, Stiles. Sure, he may have won a couple of battles but you're a _genius_ , and you know I don't use this word lightly. They need us more than they need soldiers. If Derek can't see that you're the smartest partner he'll ever have, then he is more of an idiot than I thought he was." 

She says that all the while looking over Stiles' shoulder. When he turns to see what she is looking at she grabs his face and turns it back to face her.

"Derek is an idiot but he’ll probably come around eventually. If he realizes what's good for him, that is." 

She looks absolutely terrifying, so Stiles doesn't want to contradict her. He just sighs.

"It's just… you know, that man's my hero," Lydia just raises an eyebrow at that. "I know that sounds stupid and everything but I don't know, it's just… he's _Derek Hale_. He's amazing and he’s been through some serious shit and I admire him so so much for everything that he's done, everything that he's _doing_ , and everything he is. Scott will tell you, I talked about him nonstop for a month when I learned that we were being sent to the same base as him."

"That's true!" Scott says, joining the conversation for a brief second before focusing his attention on his girlfriend once again.

"I was just… I was just dumb, you know. I thought about what I'd say when I saw him, I had like five different speeches ready, depending on the situation. I mean, I even had something prepared for if I ever met him on the way to the shower, and I managed to not make me sound creepy at all… or at least, not _too_ creepy." He can see fondness in Lydia’s eyes when she looks at him. "I just-I guess I just wanted him to like me. I know I'm young and I knew people would think I was only here because of my last name," At that, Stiles and Lydia both glare at Jackson, who looks tense (because the Jackass had been the one spreading the rumor, before Lydia had slapped him behind the head). "I just wanted Derek to like me, you know. I never expected to be his partner in this. I honestly thought I'd end up with Greenberg!" At that, both Stiles and Scott shudder. Ugh. Greenberg. "So when my dad told me that I was compatible with Derek, I was overjoyed you know? And then…"

"And then he was nothing but a dick."

"Yeah, basically.

Stiles sighs again, and with a small smile, grabs the apple that Lydia is handing him and bites into it before shrugging.

"Whatever. Eventually they'll figure out that we won't work, and Derek will get what he wanted: me far far away from him."

Stiles misses the way Lydia's eyes are locked on a point behind his right shoulder, the same thing she was staring at earlier. No one else at the table pays attention to it; Jackson doesn’t care and Scott and Allison too busy talking to each other. Lydia raises an eyebrow and, on the other side of the room, Derek gets up and exits the cafeteria, leaving his half-eaten tray of food behind him. Lydia doesn't have enhanced werewolf senses, but she doesn't need them to be able to identify the one obvious emotion that Derek is emitting in waves: guilt.

————

Today is not a good day for the Stilinski family. They have breakfast as usual, because it's what they do; they always take the time to have breakfast and to tell each other 'I love you'. But breakfast is uneasy and cautious. It always is on the anniversary of the First Attack. On the anniversary of Claudia Stilinski’s death.

The Sheriff hugs his son before leaving to do whatever it is he has to do tells him how proud of him he is, how proud his mother would be. His voice cracks at the end and Stiles holds back his tears because he doesn't want to cry in front of his father. Or at all. So, he simply nods, clears his throat, and leaves his father's quarters to go to the gym. Deaton decided to stop the simulations, so Stiles is stuck training with Derek all day long. And despite how attractive the werewolf is, running on a treadmill for endless hours while Derek does push-ups, ab crunches, and whatever else he's doing, It's not something that Stiles is terribly fond of. It's not intellectually challenging. It's just… dumb.

Today, Stiles doesn't feel like making an effort, so when he gets into the gym, he doesn't bother saying hello to Derek. He usually always does, even if he doesn't receive an answer. But not today. No, today Stiles just goes to the treadmill, ignoring Derek, Finstock, and the other werewolves in the gym. He just gets on it, and starts running.

He runs until his lungs are on fire. Derek is giving him a look that may be one of concern and Finstock yells at him to “ _get off the damn machine Bilinski_ ”.  
So Stiles does, breathing heavily, hands gripping his side to ease the stitch that was paining him. He gulps down some water and moves to the boxing area. He tries to keep his mind blank, tries to keep the emotions and the feelings inside of him contained. Every other day of the year he manages with ease but on this day, it’s damn near impossible for him.

Stiles puts on his boxing gloves and nods at the werewolf facing him. The wolf smirks and Stiles just focuses on his feet; concentrates on moving them to the correct rhythm, on never losing count and never interrupting the dance. If you stop dancing, you're dead. If you stop moving, you're dead. Other people are dead. Everyone is dead.

The werewolf fighting against Stiles seems to notice that something is wrong with him but it's Derek that smells it first. The stench of misery coming from. him It’s clinging to his skin and overwhelming his senses. 

Derek watches as Stiles hits again and again, blinded by pain and anger. He hits the werewolf who steps back once, twice, losing the rhythm of the fight. Stiles hits again and the werewolf is sent to the ground, leaving a panting Stiles to fall on top of him. A human beating a werewolf is unheard of. The scent of humiliation in the room is thick and acrid and it causes everyone to stop training in order to look at them. Before Derek can do anything to stop it, the werewolf jumps on Stiles and punches him hard in the stomach. It's low, it's not okay, and Stiles stumbles back. The werewolf hits again and Stiles raises his fist too late to block the blow to his head.

Stiles' vision becomes clouded, and when a third punch is received, all the air leaves his lungs. He coughs and a shove sends him flying to the ground. His head is throbbing and dark spots dance before his eyes. He tries to breathe, to get some air back into his lungs but he can’t stop coughing. For a second, he's on the verge of panic and he thinks he's done; thinks he’ll never be able to breathe again, that he'll die there on the floor of the gym like an idiot in front of Derek. That sucks.

Derek does think that Stiles is an idiot though. He thinks he’s the biggest idiot on the planet, maybe even in the entire solar system because who's stupid enough to go after a werewolf soldier and humiliate him in front of other wolves? People with a death wish, that's who! And Derek knew that Stiles was dumb, but not that dumb.

He roars in the face of the wolf that sent his partner to the ground and kneels next to Stiles to check that he's okay, or as okay he could be considering what has happened.

"You should probably take him to the nurse, Derek," Finstock says. 

Derek takes Stiles into his arms and lifts him up with ease.

He doesn't run to the nurse’s office but it's a close thing. Stiles is, miraculously, still breathing and he's mumbling words that don't make any sense but, then again, Derek doesn’t think that Stiles makes sense even when he’s in full health.

The nurse works quickly and effectively. She patches Stiles up without a word and Derek can see the concentration in her eyes. He wonders if she thinks that he’s the one who beat Stiles up. When she leaves the room, Stiles is focused again. He has been left with the order of staying in bed for the rest of the day to recover his strength and to stop getting into fights with bigger, stronger, and meaner people.

"You don't have to stay," is the first thing Stiles tells Derek and an intense feeling of… _wrongness_ settles deep in the wolf’s chest.

"I don't- I just…" Derek struggles to articulate his feelings.

"I don't need your pity, or whatever, Derek. I know you hate me, you don't need to act all concerned today!" 

Derek stops for a second, trying to think of what the day might mean to Stiles and then it hits him.… Oh. Of course. _Fuck_.

"Stiles, I'm so sorry about-"

"Shut. Up." He growls at Derek. The werewolf blinks for a second, taken aback. "I don't need your pit-"

"It's not pity Stiles,” Derek interrupts “Do you want to talk about her?"

"Why? Do you want to talk about _Paige_?" Derek takes a sharp intake of breath and he sees Stiles wincing despite his best effort to hide his emotions. There's a pregnant pause then Stiles says, "sorry."

"You don't need to apologize."

"Yeah, I do. It was really shitty of me to say that. Again. Apparently I'm an asshole. No wonder you hate me." 

He sounds bitter and Derek laughs without humor.

"I don't _hate_ you." At that, Stiles snorts. "No, it's true. You're not my best friend, that’s for sure but I don't hate you, Stiles. I don't want you to think that. I'm just… I'm not exactly easy to be around."

"Yeah…" Stiles answers before pausing again. "Me neither."

"That's the understatement of the year," Derek is mocking him, and Stiles doesn’t mind one bit.

"Asshole!" But Stiles is smiling, and Derek feels his heart beating in his chest, just a tiny bit faster.

"Dick," Derek answers, and there's probably a joke there to be made about dicks and assholes but Stiles just smiles and Derek thinks he's beautiful when he smiles.

Because yeah, that's true; Derek doesn't hate Stiles, Stiles just gets under his skin. He's not sure if it's a good or a bad thing.

————

Derek and Stiles' relationship doesn't magically improve but it becomes less painful for Derek to work with Stiles, and Stiles finds himself smiling more around the werewolf. Sure, they're not BFF’s and they'll probably never be but it's nice to be able to train in the gym or do a simulation without yelling at each other (though they're still working on the simulation part. Derek is still a stubborn asshole).

So yeah, things are good. Stiles' wouldn't say _great_ but they’re good. Definitely good. So, of course, that's when shit hits the fan.

The alarm roars at three AM, and Stiles is out of his bed in a heartbeat, reaching for his shoes and a shirt. He's still on the fourth floor because Deaton decided that not forcing Derek and Stiles to bunk together is better for everyone involved and Stiles agrees with him. He’s sure he would be able to survive three days with Derek. First of all: hello sexual tension (well, yeah, Stiles has eyes and he noticed that Derek is basically everything he's attracted to in a guy). Second: Stiles and Derek. Together. _All the time_. Like someone would ever think this could be anything but the worst idea ever. Anyway.

Stiles is up and running in no time, and he's among the first to get to the warehouse where the machines are waiting for their pilots. The Sheriff is already there, and he gives his son a tight smile, somehow managing to convey pride and concern at the same time. Stiles tries to reassure him with a thumbs up but he's not quite sure that it works.

Isaac looks a bit green when he gets to the warehouse with Danny, who's not smiling which is unusual for the hacker. Even Allison seems wary. Scott is looking at her like she holds the answer to everything, which is probably true in his case, because she's the brain behind his brawn. Derek is the last one to arrive, and Stiles thinks about glaring at him because he's making them look bad, but thinks against it after taking one look at the werewolf.

Even though Derek told him to _never talk about Paige again_ Stiles thinks about saying something to Derek, to wipe the worry from his face. Something like “It’s going to be okay” or “I won’t let it happen again”. But Derek did told him to never talk about her again, which Stiles did ! He's not suicidal! Everyone knows, more or less, what happened. She died in the last attack in November, two years ago. She'd been his partner for little more than a year and, according to rumors, she was more than just his partner That was often to be expected with wolf/human pairs, considering that they’re based on compatibility. Emotional, physical and intellectual compatibility. One of the aliens had gotten too close to Derek and Paige's machine, resulting in her death. Derek had healed. Physically, at least. Looking at his face, it’s obvious that he still has nightmares about it.

"Soldiers, Coach Finstock isn't here, so I'm afraid you'll have to do without his favorite Independence Day speech…" 

There are a few laughs but everyone's still tense. "I won't tell you what's expected of you because you already know. Be safe... Come home."

Stiles' dad had never been one for speeches but it was enough. The wolves and humans nod before running to their machine to suit up and get to the battlefield. Stiles takes just an extra second to hug his dad before running after Derek. He doesn't care if it makes him look like a child; he's going to war, he's allowed to be a child for a moment.

In the head of the machine, Derek is already in his suit and stepping onto the platform to start the robot. He gives Stiles a look that's part understanding, part disapprovement -probably because he was taking too long- and goes back to his job while Stiles puts on the helmet and the rest of his equipment.

"Ready to do this?" Derek doesn't answer but Stiles doesn't expect him to. He pushes a couple of buttons and the machine comes to life with a roar. "There we go… Now let's get down to business."

[ ](http://storyofrecursion.tumblr.com/post/125296772754/we-fight-monsters-together-written-by)

————

"Let me see him!" Stiles yells, trying to push his way into the infirmary.

"Mister Stilinski, Mister Hale just regained consciousness. He needs to rest!"

"I don't care, he's my partner! Let me see him!"

"I would do as he asks ma'am,” Boyd reasons. “He can get pretty stubborn and he'll probably find a way in eventually…" 

God bless Boyd and his brain! 

"It's really not a good idea…"

Derek's head hurt so badly it felt as though a train had rolled over him. _Twice_. The nurse's voice is grating at his nerves and he doesn't understand what's going on outside of the infirmary. He's not sure he wants to find out.

"I swear to God, if you don't let me see him!" 

The voice belongs to Stiles, Derek is sure of it. He’s heard it enough -way too much- he would recognise it anywhere. He likes Stiles' voice even when it's annoying. He's not sure why Stiles is insisting on seeing him.  
Five seconds later, the door slams against the wall, and Derek cringes because the noise is too loud.

"YOU!" Oh, Stiles is yelling. Why is Stiles yelling? 

"WHY AM I YELLING?" Oh. Is he saying that aloud? 

"Yes!" Oh. 

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Probably lots of things. "Don't try to outsmart me, Hale because I swear I'm going to kick your furry ass! What. The hell. Is your. PROBLEM?"

Derek's not exactly sure what's going on but Stiles seems pretty pissed off. The last thing he can remember… What's the last thing he can remem- Oh. Oh, shit. The attack!

"Is every-" A coughing fit stops Derek from talking. "Is everyone alright? Did we…Did we contain the attack?"

"Yes but that's beside the point!"

How is that beside the point? They won. That's the only thing that matters.

"No it's not the only thing that matters, you freaking douche-canoe! You almost _died_! You almost _died_ today, Derek. What is wrong with you? Do you _want_ to die? Because if that's the case I'd like to know before I ever get in another machine with you! Are you suicidal? Do you plan on being _deadly_ stupid again?"

"I don't…Stiles, I don't really…"

"You don't remember what you did? Well I DO! You fucking idiot! You…You…"

And then Stiles is hitting him hard on the chest (because he knows Derek's head still hurts, despite the werewolf healing. He still cares, Derek thinks). 

"You could have died, Derek! Don't you dare die on me, EVER, do you understand? You're such an asshole! A stubborn asshole!" 

And the human is hitting him, again and again.

"You refused to listen to my plan! Refused to listen to _me_! I'm the one that kept you alive in there, Derek! You _need me_ to survive! Do you _get that_?! You HAVE to listen to me to survive! We fight monsters together! Why don't you fucking _listen_?!"

Stiles burst into tears, his knuckles sore from hitting the werewolf's chest. He's crying and Derek can't do anything beside gather him up into his arms. He rocks him back and forth, running a hand through Stiles’ hair, murmuring apologies in his ear. Promises that he'll listen, that he didn't mean to worry him, that he'll do better. He promises he'll do better because Stiles' tears are breaking his heart. It's a new and overwhelming feeling. He never wants to see Stiles cry again, especially not because of him because it's too heartbreaking.

Stiles' face is smashed into the werewolf's chest and Derek wraps his arms around the young man, pulling him closer. Stiles' heartbeat echoes in the wolf's ears. He feels his eyelids becoming heavy, his vision is blurred and he drifts off to sleep like that, holding a sniffling Stiles against him. He feels calmer than he has in years.

————

When Derek wakes up the next morning, Stiles is long gone. His side of the bed - Derek feels strange for thinking of it as that- is cold and Derek feels like something is missing. A warm body curled against his, so perfectly that it seemed like it was made for him. Fitting like no one else has fitted before. It's weird and it's comforting. It gives Derek hope and terrifies him all at once.

The werewolf tries to reach for the pitcher full of water on the bedside table but a hand appears in his range of vision. A hand attached to an arm, attached to a person. Sheriff Stilinski. Shit. Is he going to get yelled at for yesterday? For putting Stiles in danger by not listening to him?

But the Sheriff's face is relaxed. He doesn't look angry, so he probably won't yell. He doesn't look Machiavellian so he probably won't try to kill him by injecting wolfsbane into his blood. He just looks… _proud_? And concerned? Maybe something in between.

"Sir…"

"Please, son. Call me John. After all, you're my son's partner. We can drop the 'Sir' don't you think?"

The Sheriff is still smiling and Derek is uneasy. He's not really used to people being nice to him. After all, he's a soldier.

"John… I wanted to apologize for yesterday."

"Now, why would you do that, son? It seems to me like the mission was a success. And you got hurt, you have nothing to be sorry about."

"I…I didn't listen. I endangered Stiles by refusing to listen to him. If the aliens had gotten closer, too close, he could have… He would have… Just like…" 

Derek feels like he can't breath. The realization of his actions strikes him like a slap in the face -a slap with a chair, or a table, or a truck- and suddenly, he can't breath. Because thinking of Stiles lying cold on the ground, just like Paige, it's unbearable. He's not sure he'd be able to survive after losing his partner. Not this time, not Stiles.

"Listen, Derek… I know my son. He's not the easiest person to have around. He's mouthy, he's hyperactive, he's… he's kind of a jerk." Derek smiles, shy, at that. But it's true: Stiles is a dick. "But he's the smartest person I know. He's not in this programme because he's my son, despite what some people may think." At that, Derek tries to make himself seem smaller. "He's brilliant and he's the child of a cop, so he knows how to think."

Ah, So that’s the reason for John Stilinski's nickname; he actually was a cop. Or Sheriff. Whatever it's called. 

"Which is why he's a great tactician. But more than that, Stiles is the most loyal person I know. He'd do anything for the few people that he loves and he'd do anything to keep them safe. I guess it's because he was so young when he lost his mom, you know? He feels like he couldn't protect her, so he has to protect everybody else. He put me on a bunny diet when my test results came back a few years ago and my cholesterol was too high for his liking."

Derek snorts at that. It sounds like something Stiles would do. 

"He's the one who figured out Scott was a werewolf when he was bitten by a rogue alpha. He helped him, God knows how, during his first full moons until Scott was able to find an anchor. Stiles is the one who taught Scott control. Even when he got clawed by his feral best friend, he never backed down."

"Sir- I mean, John. Why… Why are you telling all of this?"

"Because I know my son and I know that you're part of his very short and exclusive list. Because he'd do anything to get you back safe to base even if he ends up getting hurt himself. He'll forget to take care of himself because he'll be taking care of you. And of everyone else. So, I need you to keep him safe. I know you may not trust him yet but you should because Stiles will never let you down. So listen to him. My kid's smart. He knows what he's doing."

There's a pause and then the Sheriff gets up, handing Derek another glass of water before patting him on the shoulder.

"Take care of my son, Derek but let him take care of you too."

It sounds a lot like approbation, and Derek tries not to think about it too much. It's not like the Sheriff just gave him permission to date his son... is it?

————

The music in the club is too loud for werewolf ears but they all seem so happy to finally be out of the base that Derek knows he won't be able to convince them to go back. Stiles is practically vibrating with energy, tonight being his first time out of the base since he got here, all those months ago.

They're out to celebrate their victory and they feel like rock stars. People recognize them, ask for pictures, kiss their cheeks, give them hugs and clap them on the shoulder… It's a bit much for Derek, but most of the rest of them seem to be basking in the moment.

Boyd is silent, watching Erica like a hawk, not caring about anything else. Lydia is just above everything, as she usually is. Stiles though… Stiles is in his element. It's like he was made to be famous, to be recognized and admired by people. He's fucking _glowing_ in the club (though it may be glitters), smiling and laughing with everybody. He's eager to please and pleased to be shown so much attention. Not the way Jackson is, all cocky smirks and heated touch, not the way Scott is, like a puppy being congratulated for bringing back the ball, not like Erica, flirting and drinking up the attention people send her way… Stiles just seems happy. Derek feels privileged to be able to witness it because no matter how many times Stiles makes a bad joke, laughs, or smiles on the base, it doesn't compare in the slightest to what Derek is witnessing right now. Pure happiness, something the human probably hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

So, Derek sucks it up and agrees to stay. Despite the music being painfully loud and painfully terrible. Despite the drinks that don’t contain any wolfsbane to get him drunk, or even tipsy. Despite the girls that keep approaching him, trying to lure him into dancing with them. Derek stays, by the bar and watches Stiles.

Oh, Stiles tried to get him to dance with him, of course he did because that's the kind of person Stiles is. He begged, he whined, he tugged on Derek's arm. Derek tried not to think about Stiles begging, whining, and clawing at him in any other context, although it had become more and more difficult not to think about Stiles in that way since the night they slept together (actual sleep, in the infirmary). Stiles came back twice to ask again and every time Derek declined the offer and continued to nurse his beer that he knew would do nothing for him.

And now, Stiles is out there dancing with someone else and Derek can hardly take his eyes off of the human because Stiles is not dancing with a girl but with a taller, dark haired guy, whose hands are touching Stiles. Touching skin, sliding under his shirt, revealing the dark happy trail that Derek can't take his eyes off. And Stiles… Stiles is moving his hips like he's an incubus; slow and sinful, his head thrown back, pale throat on display. Derek wants to lick it, wants to bite it, wants to leave a mark there for everyone to see. But it's that other guy, that could be him but _isn't_ , that's leaving a mark there, or is on his way to. His lips are caressing Stiles' neck. Derek doesn't realize that he's growling until the bartender raises an eyebrow at him. He slams his drink down and walks toward the dancing pair. He snatches Stiles out of the arms of the other guy. Said guy is opening his mouth to protest but Derek snaps his teeth; human with maybe the _slightest_ hint of fangs, at him and he quickly backs off, leaving Derek with an amused Stiles by his side.

"I thought you didn't want to dance, Sourwolf?"

"Shut up," Derek growls softly, pulling Stiles toward him until their hips are touching.

"What…"

"I said _shut up_ Stiles!"

And Stiles does shut up but not before smirking at the wolf. Derek finds that he doesn't mind it when Stiles begins to grind against him. The beat of the song is slow and sexy and Stiles slips his arms around Derek's neck, smiling playfully at him.

"So you do want to dance with me?" 

Derek rolls his eyes; of course Stiles would not be able to shut up for more than a minute. Derek rolls his hips forward and time with the music and Stiles gasps. Derek can smell his arousal, enveloping them. He breathes in, mouth open, desperate to taste it. Stiles blushes and slaps the werewolf on the forearm. 

"Stop being so obvious you douche-canoe!"

"You need to find better insults, you know…"

"Asshole," Stiles quips.

"That's better," Derek replies with a smirk.

A pretty blond girl brushes Stiles with her hand and Derek tightens his grasp on the human, glaring at her.

"Well, aren't you the possessive one…" Stiles' voice is amused, and Derek hides his flushed face against his neck, mouthing at it while he’s there.. "I don't mind… I-" Stiles gasps. "I really don't mind…" 

Derek is pressing open mouth kisses along Stiles' neck, licking a trail up to his jaw. Stiles' eyes are closed in bliss, head tilted to the left to give the wolf full access to his neck, submitting so beautifully that Derek practically purrs against his partner's skin.

"I'm going to take you back to my room and I'm not letting you out of it for a week." He's biting now, watching the way the pale skin bruises. It's beautiful. Derek can't seem to tear his eyes away from the bruises that are appearing on Stiles' throat.

"Yeah that… that seems like a good idea…" Stiles replies, dreamily.

Derek can feel how hard Stiles is, his clothed erection rubbing against Derek's. The wolf inside him preens at that. The idea that he has pleased his mate, that he _did that_ makes him want to howl at the moon and claim his mate for the world to see. He wants to mark him up, wants to bite and sink his fangs into the pale and smooth skin. Derek wants to claim Stiles with a mark that will never fade. He wants the younger man to submit to him, he needs it like he needs air.

"Now," Is all he manages to say, before he leaves the club, taking Stiles with him. He presses Stiles against the door of his Camaro, unable to wait another second, and kisses him roughly, teeth capturing Stiles' bottom lip, biting down softly before releasing it and licking into his mouth. Stiles moans, and gives as good as he gets, running his fingers through Derek's hair and tugging hard.

"Now. We need to… your room…now… _please_!" Stiles gasps desperately.

It's the “please” that does it. Derek lets Stiles go and gets into his car. He drives faster than he ever has before.

When they get to the base, it's hard to keep their hands off each other but somehow they manage until the door of Derek's room is closed behind them. Derek slams Stiles against it and Stiles wraps his legs around his waist, pulling him closer and digging his heels in the wolf's lower back. Derek's hands roam all over Stiles' ass, squeezing greedily.

The noises that escape the human's lips are turning Derek on like crazy. He tears Stiles and himself away from the door and moves them to the bed in the next room. His lips never leave Stiles' for long, always finding their way back like it's home.

Derek lowers him on his bed, and only then does he stop kissing, to look at the human under him. Stiles' lips are bitten red, shiny with spit, and half open. He's panting, and Derek wonders just how far down does the flush go. So, he rip Stiles' shirt off of the younger man’s body, not caring about the protests coming from him. He skims and strokes Stiles' skin with his fingertips, grazes his nipples, and does it again when Stiles hisses at the contact. And again and again, until Stiles is a shuddering mess under him, fidgeting, and moaning.

"Derek… Derek, _please, please, please_ …"

Derek smirks and does it again one last time, before catching Stiles' earlobe between his teeth.

"Hush, pup… Let me take care of you." 

Stiles whines at that and arches his back up. Derek bites at his neck while pushing a hand down the younger man's pants and into his underwear. He brushes his fingers along his cocks, teasing the head, before gripping it, smearing the precum along the length. He begins to stroke it, loose fist and biting kisses. Stiles sobs in relief.

"Please. Please, Derek… more… I… _more_ … please… _anything_ …" He sounds broken, and Derek likes it just as much as his wolf does.

"Anything?… You sure about that?" Stiles, eager as he is, nods so hard it must hurt, clawing at Derek's chest, still covered by his shirt.

"Take it off. You need… off, _off_!"

Derek chuckles and stops stroking Stiles' cock to get his shirt off. He pushes himself off of the younger man, and the bed, to get his pants and underwear off. He stands there completely naked, cock erect and standing proud. Stiles' pupils are dark with lust, the beautiful amber of his eyes is almost gone. He whines high in his throat and lunges at Derek, wrapping his lips around the head of the wolf's cock. Derek groans low in his throat and his hand finds his way to Stiles' hair, gripping it to help set the pace.

"That's it, pup. Good… You're _so good_ …"

Stiles fucking preens at that.

"Yeah, you're such a good boy. Such a good pup… God, your lips… I’ve been imagining them wrapped around my cock for months. Even when I couldn't stand you, I couldn't help myself… It's like they were made for it… Made to suck my cock." Stiles blushes and Derek laughs, tightening his grip on Stiles' hair to force his cock down his throat. "Isn't that right, pup? Your lips were made to suck my cock weren't they?"

Stiles pulls back to catch a breath, panting. "Yes… yes. Yours…" He licks the head of Derek’s thick cock. "Only yours." 

He licks again and Derek groans, pushing Stiles' head back down.

"Yeah, you're perfect. God, so fucking perfect. I wish you could see yourself… So fucking hot like that; on your knees, sucking my cock like you can't get enough. And you can't, can you pup? You need it, don't you? You threw yourself at me like you were starving, so hungry for it… Perfect pup."

He pulls Stiles off of his cock with a loud, wet 'pop' and pushes him down onto the bed.

"I bet you want my cock somewhere else don't you, pup?"

Stiles' eyes widen and he nods, almost vibrating with desire. Derek chuckles and grabs the lube in his nightstand.

"Don't worry pretty pup. I'll give you what you need…What you crave…" And with that, he pushes one lubed finger into Stiles' hole. It hurts despite the lube and Stiles cries out but Derek just shushes him, twisting his nipples. "Hush, baby. Let me in. I need to prep you if you want me to fuck you. I don't want to hurt you…"

"Yeah… Please. Please, Derek. _Fuck me_ …"

"Not yet, pup. I need to put more fingers in you first." And he does, adding a second, then a third finger, hitting Stiles' prostate with every thrust of his skilled fingers.

" _Pleasepleasepleaseplease_ , Derek! Fuck me, _please_. Fuck me, just give it to me. Please, Please…" Stiles' begging almost break Derek's heart and he noses at the younger man's neck.

"Soon, pup. I don't want to hurt you. I need to stretch you some more for my cock…"

Stiles is almost crying by now, squirming on the bed.

"No, no, want it now. _Please_ , Please, Der', wanna feel it, wanna feel _you_ , please…"

And how could Derek resist that? Stiles is so pretty when he begs, when he's gagging for it. He smears lube over his cock and, with one hard thrust, he enters Stiles. It's so fucking tight and hot that he almost comes right then and there. The noises that Stiles is making are not helping him last any longer.

"Fuck, Stiles! You feel so _good_. So good around my cock, pup…So tight, like a fucking virgin. Gonna ruin you baby, gonna ruin you for everyone else!"

"No, no, just you. Just you, Der', I swear, just you… Oh… So big… So big Der’…"

Derek gets lost in the rhythm of his hips snapping against Stiles' ass, the younger man's legs wrapped around his waist. He's sucking marks all over Stiles’ pale skin and connecting the moles with his tongue. He hits Stiles' prostate with every thrust, making him wail. He's close, so close. Stiles is so tight and it's wonderful, no one else has ever made him feel this good.

"Are you close, pup? Are you gonna come on my cock like a good boy?"

"Der’…"

"I know you can do it, pup…You're such a good boy. You're so tight, so perfect. You feel so good, baby. Come on…Come for me Stiles. Come for me, baby."

His fangs sink into Stiles' shoulder and that's all it takes to send him over the edge; he's coming, cock spurting across their stomachs. Stiles’ hole is clenching deliciously on Derek's cock, and a few more thrusts are all it takes to make him come too.

He falls, face first onto Stiles, panting with his face in the younger man’s neck, his heart beating as fast as Stiles'.

"So good… So good for me." Is all he manages to murmur against Stiles' neck.

He licks the marks he left there, the marks that everyone will see the next day, and the next week. The marks he'll keep refreshing so that they never doubt that this wonderful boy is his.

"Mine," he grumbles.

"Mine," Stiles answers.

They're going to be disgusting the next day, sticky with come and Stiles will probably be pissed at him for the love bites that he left _everywhere_ on his body but Derek can't seem to care for now. He's still cum-drunk, no more coherent than Stiles. The human under him smells like mate, like home, and it's the best smell in the whole world. This scent mixed with his own and sex; he doesn't think he has ever smelled anything so delightful.

“Night Der’…" Stiles mumbles sleepily.

"Goodnight, pup."

They fall asleep like that; holding each other, Derek’s softening cock still inside Stiles. They don't know when the next attack will come or if they'll even survive the next one but they don't care because now they're not alone anymore and they're ready to face whatever the world will throw at them.

In the club, Erica collects her gains from her friends. They all knew that those idiots would end up together, the question was just _when_ …


End file.
